We were led to a quiet room with grey walls, four plastic chairs and a lone wooden table. On one wall, to our right when we entered, was a rectangular whiteboard which stretched from almost one side of the room to the other. It displayed a few notes in squiggly handwriting that I didn't even attempt to read.
"What is this place?" Hanien asked.
"This is where all the magic happens, somewhat literally," James explained, "What we need to do now is going to involve a much more electronic means. Joanne, Eliphia, get your phones out and get on Facebook. Hanien and Annisa we need you two to get on Twitter and create anonymous accounts. We're going to have these accounts follow the account of someone Paul was sighted talking to by a journalist. They won't tell us where that was yet but I reckon we can make a start at finding out."
James gestured for us to sit down and we positioned ourselves around the table in the same way we had when we'd been in the classroom. James rolled up the sleeves of his pale turquoise shirt and ran his hands through his hair, which was fairly floppy from this gesture having been repeated many times. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table, his fingers gripping the table's edges. He exhaled through closed lips which caused his entire mouth to vibrate.
"Look, this is difficult for me. We've been told that Paul has affiliation with an extremist group known as the Prosetic Guardians. They're an extreme canonist group that strongly disagree with fanfiction and any over-analysis of literature. They believe that engagement and speculation is to sully a piece of someone's work, no matter the medium. They believe that it is not the place of the reader or audience to apply their own ideas to the work of somebody else. They want to abolish the study of literature in schools, ban sites that support fanfiction and break up book clubs. They want people to read books and discuss the ideas put forward by the writer only with the writer.
"I don't agree with this. I never will. It goes against all the values of creativity, imagination and involvement that this school tries so hard to embody. But I just can't imagine Paul doing this. He was such a happy boy. He loved talking about all things Marvel. I just can't think what might have pushed him to this. To tell the truth, I'm worried it was me." James traced a semi-circle on the floor with the big toe on his right foot. "He wanted to talk to me about more than his social life that day. I don't know what but I've never told anyone that, not even Benedict and Michael. It sounded serious. He sounded really angry and desperate but I just kept promising I'd talk to him about it after the open day was over but he was just getting angrier and angrier and calling me an egoist, which, I guess, was totally accurate at the time. All he would say was that he had a big decision to make. I can only assume that the decision was whether or not to join the Guardians."
James folded at the waist and his head sank down to the surface of the table.
Eliphia patted his tense wrist. "We're on it, James."
He drew in a breath and nodded. "Okay. I'll catch up with you all towards the end of Music because that's my free period and its lunch next. I need you to be discreet about this. If anyone asks where you were... I don't know... maybe you all had a fight and I was helping you resolve it?"
"What could we be fighting over?" I wondered.
"James," Hanien answered automatically.
"What?" James faced her. "Did you want something?"
"No." Hanien shook her head. "We could be fighting over you."
James puffed his shoulders. "Huh. I've never had people fight over me. I could get used to this."
I flicked his knuckle with my fingernail. "Focus... "
"Yes, okay." James shook his head. "Okay, let's go to English. Oh, and nobody breathes a word about Paul Ziemkoll to Ian McEwan."
Ian McEwan's English class was, to me at least, exhilarating. I could have listened to him all day as he talked about themes and symbolism and how to manipulate an audience into crying their eyes dry over the tragic death of a fictional character. I certainly trusted his advice on the subject, given that I'd never spoken to anyone who'd read or seen 'Atonement' that hadn't been screaming their throats raw at Briony by the end. In fact, on multiple occasions in his 2012 novel 'Sweet Tooth', I'd been so shocked that I'd actually gasped sharply like a surprised cartoon character. I did not, however, take all that many notes. I found myself at the end of his opening speech with my pen poised over an English jotter like I'd been frozen in an iceberg at the beginning of the lesson. My wrist had fallen limp and my eyes stung from forgetting to blink.
"Any questions?" he asked cheerily.
As it happened, I did have one. "When you were describing Briony's love of writing at the beginning of 'Atonement', did you ever worry you were very similar in some respects to her?"
"Actually," he mused, "I think James McAvoy has a great theory on that one. Briony is the centre of her Universe and will never emerge from the little bubble she lives in. I can promise myself that this is not who I am, because I just asked you all if she had any questions and Briony would never have thought of doing that."
A couple of people asked questions about historical accuracy and the casting of Benedict Cumberbatch as Paul Marshall, whose features were described as 'slightly out of place' or something like that. Eliphia, Hanien, Annisa and I found ourselves fidgeting and rhythmically tapping on the desk. I felt guilty, given that these English classes were most of the reason I'd applied to the Internet School in the first place. Still, James was relying on us to act normal so I took a deep breath and scribbled down what I could remember of what Ian had been saying.
"What is this place?" Hanien asked.
"This is where all the magic happens, somewhat literally," James explained, "What we need to do now is going to involve a much more electronic means. Joanne, Eliphia, get your phones out and get on Facebook. Hanien and Annisa we need you two to get on Twitter and create anonymous accounts. We're going to have these accounts follow the account of someone Paul was sighted talking to by a journalist. They won't tell us where that was yet but I reckon we can make a start at finding out."
James gestured for us to sit down and we positioned ourselves around the table in the same way we had when we'd been in the classroom. James rolled up the sleeves of his pale turquoise shirt and ran his hands through his hair, which was fairly floppy from this gesture having been repeated many times. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table, his fingers gripping the table's edges. He exhaled through closed lips which caused his entire mouth to vibrate.
"Look, this is difficult for me. We've been told that Paul has affiliation with an extremist group known as the Prosetic Guardians. They're an extreme canonist group that strongly disagree with fanfiction and any over-analysis of literature. They believe that engagement and speculation is to sully a piece of someone's work, no matter the medium. They believe that it is not the place of the reader or audience to apply their own ideas to the work of somebody else. They want to abolish the study of literature in schools, ban sites that support fanfiction and break up book clubs. They want people to read books and discuss the ideas put forward by the writer only with the writer.
"I don't agree with this. I never will. It goes against all the values of creativity, imagination and involvement that this school tries so hard to embody. But I just can't imagine Paul doing this. He was such a happy boy. He loved talking about all things Marvel. I just can't think what might have pushed him to this. To tell the truth, I'm worried it was me." James traced a semi-circle on the floor with the big toe on his right foot. "He wanted to talk to me about more than his social life that day. I don't know what but I've never told anyone that, not even Benedict and Michael. It sounded serious. He sounded really angry and desperate but I just kept promising I'd talk to him about it after the open day was over but he was just getting angrier and angrier and calling me an egoist, which, I guess, was totally accurate at the time. All he would say was that he had a big decision to make. I can only assume that the decision was whether or not to join the Guardians."
James folded at the waist and his head sank down to the surface of the table.
Eliphia patted his tense wrist. "We're on it, James."
He drew in a breath and nodded. "Okay. I'll catch up with you all towards the end of Music because that's my free period and its lunch next. I need you to be discreet about this. If anyone asks where you were... I don't know... maybe you all had a fight and I was helping you resolve it?"
"What could we be fighting over?" I wondered.
"James," Hanien answered automatically.
"What?" James faced her. "Did you want something?"
"No." Hanien shook her head. "We could be fighting over you."
James puffed his shoulders. "Huh. I've never had people fight over me. I could get used to this."
I flicked his knuckle with my fingernail. "Focus... "
"Yes, okay." James shook his head. "Okay, let's go to English. Oh, and nobody breathes a word about Paul Ziemkoll to Ian McEwan."
Ian McEwan's English class was, to me at least, exhilarating. I could have listened to him all day as he talked about themes and symbolism and how to manipulate an audience into crying their eyes dry over the tragic death of a fictional character. I certainly trusted his advice on the subject, given that I'd never spoken to anyone who'd read or seen 'Atonement' that hadn't been screaming their throats raw at Briony by the end. In fact, on multiple occasions in his 2012 novel 'Sweet Tooth', I'd been so shocked that I'd actually gasped sharply like a surprised cartoon character. I did not, however, take all that many notes. I found myself at the end of his opening speech with my pen poised over an English jotter like I'd been frozen in an iceberg at the beginning of the lesson. My wrist had fallen limp and my eyes stung from forgetting to blink.
"Any questions?" he asked cheerily.
As it happened, I did have one. "When you were describing Briony's love of writing at the beginning of 'Atonement', did you ever worry you were very similar in some respects to her?"
"Actually," he mused, "I think James McAvoy has a great theory on that one. Briony is the centre of her Universe and will never emerge from the little bubble she lives in. I can promise myself that this is not who I am, because I just asked you all if she had any questions and Briony would never have thought of doing that."
A couple of people asked questions about historical accuracy and the casting of Benedict Cumberbatch as Paul Marshall, whose features were described as 'slightly out of place' or something like that. Eliphia, Hanien, Annisa and I found ourselves fidgeting and rhythmically tapping on the desk. I felt guilty, given that these English classes were most of the reason I'd applied to the Internet School in the first place. Still, James was relying on us to act normal so I took a deep breath and scribbled down what I could remember of what Ian had been saying.
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